


Due Influence

by inmyriadbits



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 11:57:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8889910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmyriadbits/pseuds/inmyriadbits
Summary: Csevet definitely did not choose the new empress of the Elflands.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [V_V_lala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_V_lala/gifts).



Csevet looked up from his cup of tea (which the emperor had pressed upon him in yet another of his unexpected moments of kindness, being clearly concerned about his secretary in the bitter cold which edged into all the rooms of the Alcethmeret) at the arrival of the courier. To his delight, Csevet recognised his friend Vitya, wearing his favored distinctive red ribbons in his hair.

Kneeling before the emperor, Vitya impeccably performed the protocol of presenting his delivery from Dachensol Habrobar. His Serenity glanced between Csevet and Vitya, and took the tiny quilted bag from the courier’s hands. “Will you wait, an a reply to Dachensol Habrobar is needed?”

“Serenity,” Vitya agreed, bowing. 

Edrehasivar nodded Csevet toward the dining room door, and he eagerly took the opportunity to speak to his old friend.

“Well met, exalted secretary,” Vitya said in an undertone as they exited the breakfast room, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light.

Csevet laughed, and drew the door closed behind them. “Well met, impertinent courier. How goes your day?”

“Tolerably exciting,” Vitya said, dismissive, then dropped into a familiar cajoling tone. “We hear the Corazhas meet today to discuss the emperor’s marriage?”

“Yes. And _we_ are glad to see that you remain a shameless gossip,” Csevet replied tartly, though not without affection.

Vitya laughed, and leaned against the wall to wait. “Alas, our reputation proceeds us. Yet truly, all we intended was to wish you success in your choice.”

Csevet tried not to flinch at the unwitting echo of the night he had discussed potential empresses with the emperor. _Is she your choice?_ “The choice is not ours,” he protested. “It would be treason to unduly influence the emperor. We are only His Serenity’s secretary.” But he looked away as soon as he said it, not willing to meet Vitya’s eyes as he remembered the emperor saying, _We trust neither Chavar’s judgment nor his loyalties. We trust yours._

Vitya watched him carefully, frowning slightly. “And we are only a courier. But we both know that information can be lost, or corrupted, before ever reaching its destination. Those who carry knowledge to others have this, the power of a gatekeeper. It is not undue influence; it is simply the nature of our jobs, and our responsibility.”

Csevet was silent. He knew what Vitya said to be true, but he also knew in his heart that this was different from his duties as a courier. He was always terribly aware of how His Serenity relied upon Csevet; he knew that decisions had been made based solely on what information Csevet could scratch together, and sometimes even on Csevet’s opinions alone. Edrehasivar so often looked to Csevet for information, and Csevet felt — he felt not as if he were allowing a penitent in through a gate, but as if he were throwing a rope to a drowning man. 

“A secretary cannot choose the next empress,” Csevet said, after a moment. “And yet...I fear that what I say to the Corazhas today will determine their choice, regardless of what a secretary cannot do.”

Vitya reached out to clasp him gently by the shoulder, and lowered his voice. “Thou needst not always efface thyself, Csevet,” he said. “Our emperor trusts thee, and I can think of no one more worthy of trust.”

Though they did not always use it, they had granted each other the right of informality years ago. Vitya had come through the courier station in Puzhvarno shortly after Csevet stumbled in after Eshoravee, shaking from fever and the pernicious remnants of fear. He had helped him to a bed, brought him hot tea and soup, and when he had seen the bruises on Csevet’s skin (finger marks wrapping his wrists like bracelets; the span of a hand across his hip; the impact of a fist on his cheekbone), he had only looked sad, and said _It will get easier, my friend_. Csevet had heard in Vitya’s voice the assurance of one who had walked a similar road, and had taken comfort from it.

Now, again, some tight knot in his belly eased at Vitya’s words. “I thank thee,” Csevet said quietly.

Vitya nodded, and lowered his warm hand to grip Csevet’s. 

They stood thus a long moment, before Vitya smiled, softly let go his grip, and changed the subject. “But as we were saying, if you could perhaps give us a hint as to the name of the empress the Corazhas will choose? For we know that you must anticipate their answer, there is a wager going among the couriers—”

“No,” Csevet said sternly.

“— and of course we would split our winnings with you, as we did with the bet upon that chicken—”

“No,” Csevet repeated, but ruined his sham severity with a laugh.

Vitya sighed dramatically. “Well, we do hope it will not be Osmin Duchenin, in any case, and not just because our fearless leader Orimar has placed his money on her. No one can tell what Edrehasivar VII is thinking behind that poker face of his, so bets are falling all over the court ladies. We believe we shall favor Dach’osmin Ceredin, for she at least possesses a sense of humor.”

Csevet smiled serenely, and refrained from comment.

They both looked over as the dining room door opened. Lieutenant Beshelar emerged first, sweeping the hallway with his gaze as if he suspected the rug of fomenting plots. The emperor followed, with Cala at his heels.

“You may return to your duties,” Edrehasivar said to Vitya. “We have no complaints of the ring.” Indeed, Csevet could see the suppressed delight in the emperor’s eyes as he glanced down at his right hand; and he thought of the crack in His Serenity’s voice back in Dachensol Habrobar’s workshop, and every other glimpse Csevet had seen of his emperor’s deep and abiding love for his dead mother, and felt glad for him.

“Serenity,” Vitya said, bowing. “It has been our honor.”

Edrehasivar smiled, and Vitya left in a flurry of scarlet ribbons.

Their company set off down the hall in the opposite direction, and Cala Athmaza dropped back as they walked, clearly wishing a word with Csevet.

“We understand the Corazhas will decide upon the matter of the future empress today,” Cala said, voice as gentle and unruffled as always.

“Yes, that is the agenda,” Csevet agreed.

“We hope the emperor will find happiness in their choice,” Cala remarked.

“We...do not believe the Corazhas concern themselves with the emperor’s _happiness_ very often,” Csevet observed cautiously.

“Indeed not,” Cala said. “But we think you do.”

Csevet almost stopped walking in the middle of the hallway.

Cala smiled slightly, and sped his steps to be closer to the emperor. Csevet followed in silence.

Later that morning, when the subject turned to the emperor’s choice of bride, and the emperor turned to Csevet with the look of a drowning man, Csevet thought back to that moment with Cala. He remembered Vitya’s faith in him, recalled the light in Edrehasivar’s eyes as he looked at his mother’s signet, and considered the weight of what he would say next.

Csevet bowed to the high lords of the Corazhas, said, “It is true that we have been assisting the emperor, to the best of our poor ability, to make a wise decision. His Serenity feels that there are three candidates worthy of your consideration: Dach’osmin Paru Tethimin, Dach’osmin Csethiro Ceredin, and Osmin Loran Duchenin,” and waited for the votes of the Corazhas to fall into place.


End file.
